CHAPTER TEN
Avery called 911 with her g*n trained on George. She used her walkie-talkie to dial backup. Ramirez couldn’t get over how stupid he’d been, or how much the wound actually hurt. Every so often, he’d shake his head and mumble to himself.
“Can’t believe this punk got the jump on me.”
“He’s fast,” Avery said. “You have training, George? Army? Navy? Is that how you were able to abduct Cindy?”
George sat cross-legged and silent with his head low.
“How’s the wound?” Avery asked Ramirez.
“I don’t know. I can breathe, so maybe he missed the lung. But the fucker hurts.”
He then stopped and looked at her with awe.
“Thanks, Black. You had my back. I owe you one.”
When the ambulance arrived, the EMT applied pressure to the wound and asked Ramirez a few questions. The initial diagno
